Pretty Boy
by willam
Summary: <html><head></head>Arthur is an escort and Eames needs some company.  Of course romance ensues.  slightly A/U</html>
1. Pretty Boy

**Pretty Boy**

Arthur lay in his bed, watching the light move across his ceiling. He had a feeling that the day was going to be a little rough, but he couldn't put his finger on why. He finally rolled out of bed and made his way over to his wardrobe, knowing that Marcus would want him downstairs soon. Friday was the day that all the business men came in looking for Weekend Company.

As he looked through his clothes deciding on what would be the best thing to wear Arthur thought, as he often did when he had some downtime, about what he wanted out of life. Marcus was a great boss, and was far nicer to him then he needed to be. Unlike most of the other men in Marcus' stable Arthur actually belonged to him. He had been sold to Marcus years ago by Arthur's own mother trying to pay off her debts, drugs among other things.

Arthur had of course known what kind of work he was being sold into, but Marcus took care of his boys. He sat Arthur down when they had gotten home and explained to him that as long as he was a good boy he would have food and a place to stay. He gave Arthur his own room and was there whenever Arthur needed to talk. He also had a rule that no underage boys hooked on his watch, though Arthur did have to do his rounds in the bar to pay for his upkeep. Marcus took wonderful care of him, treating him almost like his very own son. He said he did this because of how beautiful and smart Arthur was. He said that he knew that Arthur would definitely be something big.

Once he could, he worked as hard as possible for Marcus, wanting to pay him back for everything he had done. Marcus had been right of course, people were willing to pay big money for the young, willing boy with his sharp features and piercing eyes. He could also, as many of Marcus' boys were trained to do, carry on intelligent conversation on a variety of topics. Their clients were of course, as Marcus said, paying for the experience, the company, not just the sex. Arthur though, unlike the others, was able to carry the conversations under his own steam and not just by spouting facts that he had been told. He spent his nights off reading books on all sorts of topics to make sure he was prepared for anything that came up.

Marcus immediately noticed the dedication of his favourite boy and moved him up to VIP rotation. It meant that Arthur got a better room, better food and didn't need to go out on call-ins. This was the biggest benefits as the call-ins were usually the ones that boys went to and never came back. They were usually killed and dumped, or else they were maimed so badly that Marcus could no longer use them and turned them out.

Arthur no longer had to be worried about being a love-it-and -leave-it but he did have to worry about the fact that his 25th birthday had just passed. Marcus had assured him that he would never turn him out, especially since Marcus himself had lately taken to what Arthur had to offer, but he had seen other washed up escorts that had come to Marcus begging for a cleaning job, or for bottom feeders and had heard what the boys said about them and had no desire to share their fate. He also wouldn't put it past the other boys to force him out, as many of them were resentful of the special treatment he received from Marcus.

Arthur started slightly at a knock on his door.

"You decent Sweetie?" Marcus cooed through the hardwood.

"No, but I'm dressed." Arthur smirked.

Marcus was the only person other than Arthur who had a key to his room and let himself in easily. He smiled when he saw Arthur and came over to give him a kiss and a little squeeze.

"You are looking extra fine today Love." Arthur grunted, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. He tried to turn around and go back to looking through his clothes, but Marcus caught him about the waist and nuzzled at his neck, making Arthur laugh at the ticklish feeling. Giving up, Arthur turned back around to face him now pressed against his chest because of the placement of Marcus' arms.

"What do you really want?" Arthur asked tiredly, looking up at Marcus.

"A man can't compliment his best boy for no reason?" asked Marcus, trying to sound innocent. Arthur raised an eyebrow. Marcus laughed.

"Fine, fine I should know better than to try to pull the wool over the eyes of someone as sharp as you Love. I've got a good date for you, but it's an out date."

Arthur swallowed hard, resting his head against Marcus' shoulder. He had to do what Marcus said of course, but if he made a big enough fuss Marcus had been known to make other arrangements. He thought about the implications though. His last out date had almost killed him, trying to strangle him. Arthur had managed to hit him and get away, but he had been understandably traumatized. Out dates scared Arthur because there was no security, no Marcus, to make sure he was safe and to stop things if they got too rough.

However, if Marcus was willing to put him on another out date it meant this guy had paid a substantial amount of money to take Arthur out of the brothel.

"How much?" Arthur asked Marcus' shirt.

"Enough that I'm required to tell you to go along with whatever weird kink he might have." Marcus said into Arthur's hair, reaching down to give his ass another squeeze.

Arthur sighed. He had to do what Marcus said, he had no choice. He had a debt to pay.

"How long?" he asked quietly. He felt Marcus smile into his hair.

"That's my good boy. He's paid for two weeks, plus tips for you if you do a good job. And I'll give you a phone, so you can call me if he gives you any trouble ok?" He lifted Arthur's chin and gave him a deep kiss. "Any at all. I always take care of you don't I Honey?"

Arthur nodded. He was still scared of being with a stranger for two weeks, but he knew Marcus wouldn't let anything happen to him if he could help it.

"Good boy," Marcus repeated, kissing him again and heading for the door. "Be down in ten minutes ok? And wear your suit."

Arthur grinned. Another sore spot among the boys was the Armani original Marcus had bought him as a reward for a particularly well done job. It made Arthur feel sexy and untouchable. He slipped on, wondering what kind of guy wanted a hooker in a suit for the weekend.

* * *

><p>Arthur made his way downstairs well before his ten minutes was up. Marcus was eating peanuts and waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. Arthur smiled at him.<p>

"You know, the amount you pop those back you'll end up choking one of these times. It might just be safer for you to smoke."

"Smartass." mumbled Marcus through a mouthful of peanuts. He gave Arthur a smack on the ass as pointed towards the VIP lounge. "Now get in there and be charming."

"Yes sir."

Arthur let himself in through the back entrance of the lounge. There was only one man in there, so Arthur figured that must be his date. The man was looking away from him, watching the dancer who was on the pole in the bar, a flute of complementary champagne dangling from his fingers. Arthur took advantage of his momentary secrecy to observe the man he would be the companion of for the next fourteen days. The man was bigger than Arthur and probably taller, with sandy hair and tan skin. He was well built, muscled but not bulging and, from what Arthur could see of his face in the dim light and bad angle, was quite good looking. The shirt he was wearing however, made Arthur briefly wrinkle his nose before he remembered the "service with a smile" policy.

The man had paired a bright salmon pink shirt, covered with what looked like a pale paisley pattern, with a beige suit jacket, brown pants and navy blue shoes.

_Well, _Arthur thought to himself. _The rich can't always have good fashion sense._

He stepped towards the man, while checking the card Marcus passed him as he came down the stairs. "Mr…..Eames?"

The man on the chaise turned towards him, smiling. "It's pronounced Eames Darling, like seams."

"Oh," said Arthur blushing. He was usually very good about that sort of thing. "Sorry about that."

"No problem Darling, it happens all the time." He patted the seat next to him on the low sofa. "Rest a minute Love; I want to finish watching this talented young man before we go."

Arthur perched on the corner closest to the man and looked down over the railing into the bar. Tawny was on the pole and Arthur had to agree with the man, he was talented. Tawny had brought his outside talent with him to the brothel, having been a dancer before he realized that a few bit parts in the back of music videos weren't going to pay his bills. He, like many of the men who found their way to Marcus' brothel, really had no other marketable skills. Marcus however didn't look a gift horse in the mouth and had immediately put Tawny on the pole, a decision which had paid off for both of them.

_He's British then _thought Arthur. That was one point in his favour at least, since in his experience the British were usually the least kinky, just wanting a break from the crappy weather and whiny wives that spent all their money on Burberry.

He felt a crawly feeling up his spine and turned to find the man—Mr. Eames—wasn't watching Tawny any more, but Arthur. Arthur hid his surprise as quickly as he could and plastered on his most sensuous smile. He supressed a small shiver as Mr. Eames continued to scrutinize him.

"Can you drink?" he asked suddenly. Arthur nodded and he poured him a flute from the bottle chilling in the ice bucket next to the chaise. Their fingers brushed together as he handed it to Arthur and Arthur started slightly. The other man quirked an eyebrow and leaned back against the chaise, throwing his arm over the back and crossing one leg over the other. Arthur took the hint and leaned back too, while simultaneously moving closer to his client.

"What's your name?" Mr. Eames asked. Arthur could feel the heat of his gaze through the suit, taking in his face and his body.

_What was his name?_ Arthur quickly ran through his collection of aliases in his head. He had a different name, a different person for every outfit. He had a different him for every client. _Stephan _he said to himself. _You're Stephan when you're wearing the suit._ He lifted his head to tell Mr. Eames and was startled again. Mr. Eames had beautiful eyes, perfectly set and sea green.

"Um…Arthur…" _What? No!_

"Noble, stone or bear."

"Sorry?" asked Arthur, feeling increasingly stupid and not in the least charming.

"Your name Love." Mr. Eames was smiling at him, but in a friendly way not a condescending way. "Mine means wealthy or prosperous protector."

"Oh." Arthur blushed again—he seemed to be doing more and more of that as the minutes went on—and took a sip of champagne in an effort to regain his composure. Mr. Eames smiled at him again and shifted so he was closer to Arthur.

"So, you're going to be staying with me for the fortnight. I've paid your…boss…for your company, but I will also be giving you a flat fee for both weeks plus a tip when you complete a task for me. I'm leaving it up to you to decide what you think is a fair tip for each individual task. At the end, if I'm satisfied with your services, you will also receive a bonus. Is there anything you want to ask me before we go? There's still time to back out." Arthur shook his head. "Is there anything you need from your room?" Arthur shook his head again. "Ok, you ready to go then Darling?"

Mr. Eames stood and offered his hand to Arthur to help him stand up. Arthur put his flute on the low table beside him and, after wiping suddenly sweaty palms on his slacks, took his hand and stood. They walked out through the client entrance to the lounge, Arthur's eyes dropping down to where Mr. Eames was holding his hand. They navigated the tables in the bar and Arthur could feel the other boys watching them, no doubt having heard how much he was going for that weekend. They were probably going to kill him as soon as he got back in.

If he got back in.

Arthur swallowed hard and tried not to think about that. Mr. Eames led him out of the brothel, a place where Arthur hadn't been in over two years, and into the cool evening air. Arthur shivered slightly and Mr. Eames, catching it, took off his own suit jacket and draped it about Arthur's shoulders. Arthur let a smile creep onto his face as they pulled Mr. Eames' car around.

Mr. Eames opened the door on the passenger side and helped Arthur in. Arthur took one last look at the brothel and a deep breath as Mr. Eames walked around to his side of the car. The car lurched slightly as he got in, jostling Arthur out of his thoughts.

"Buckle up Darling; I'm not what they'd call a safe driver."

Arthur did up his seatbelt as he was instructed and took one last look at the brothel as they pulled away.


	2. Tease

**Tease**

"Darling…" Arthur felt a large warm hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. He opened his eyes and stretched slightly.

"Mmmm…?"

Mr. Eames was grinning at him. "We're here Love."

"Oh, sorry."

"That's alright." he said softly. Arthur didn't notice him get out of the car until he was next to him, opening the passenger side door and offering his hand to Arthur.

Arthur stepped out of the car and looked up at the huge hotel looming before them. It was the Regent, one of the most expensive hotels in the area. Mr. Eames led him across the gilded lobby and into the elevator. Mr. Eames held Arthur's hand the whole way.

"Mr. Eames?"

"Just Eames, Darling, please. I'll get you a key tomorrow morning and you can come and go alright? Are you hungry? Do you want to order something?"

The whole time he was talking Eames was leading Arthur down the plush hallway towards his room. The closer they got the faster Arthur's heart beat. If he went in there would be no one looking for him for him for at least two weeks. The front desk didn't know he was here yet. Eames let go of his hand in order to get the door open.

_Now _Arthur thought _you can run now._

But he knew he couldn't. If Eames didn't find him he would most definitely call Marcus and complain about him and then Marcus would come find him. Then he'd be in big trouble. He took a deep breath and gave himself a quick pep talk.

He followed Eames into the room and carefully shut the door behind him.

The room was pretty much a generic hotel room. Eames' luggage was open on the armchair in the far corner and a laptop hummed on the desk. Eames had taken his shoes off at the door and Arthur followed suit, toeing off his loafers. Eames sat on the corner of the bed.

"So, are you hungry? You never answered." Arthur shook his head, feeling suddenly shy.

"Ok, then. If you're sure…" Eames looked at him for a minute. "If you change your mind my credit card's on file ok? Call room service and get whatever you want. I've had a long day. I'm going to turn in. Care to join me?"

Arthur nodded mutely.

"You don't have anything to sleep in do you?" Not really a question. "Would you like to borrow one of my shirts?"

Arthur nodded again and wondered what had happened to all his confidence, all his witty, snappy comebacks. Eames rooted through his suitcase and came up with a blissfully tame shirt, camel brown. He came across the floor towards Arthur, holding the shirt towards him. Arthur took the shirt and turned towards the bathroom.

"If it's alright with you, I'd like to watch you change?"

The request was gentle enough that Arthur felt he could refuse but he nodded all the same. Eames crossed to the bed and lay down on it, propping himself up on the many pillows on the headboard to watch Arthur.

Arthur first hung Eames' coat on the back of the desk chair, brushing it out smooth. He then turned back to Eames. He felt his nerve come back slightly now that he was a safe distance from the other man. He caressed his throat as he undid his tie, letting it hang loose from his collar for the moment. He then slowly undid his cuff buttons and the jacket buttons, removing the jacket equally as slowly and putting it over top of Eames' on the desk chair. Standing in his vest, shirt and pants he took hold of the loose tie and pulled, the whisper of silk filling the room as he pulled it loose of his collar. He looked up at Eames through his eyelashes and dropped the tie on the floor. He heard a sharp intake of breath and smirked to himself. He undid the buttons on his vest then turned his back to Eames, so the other man could watch the muscles of his shoulders work as he pulled it off. He untucked the shirt before he turned back around.

Taking the chair from the desk, jackets and all, he sat slowly down in it. He ran a hand up his clothed leg before returning to his foot. Holding the leg up straight in front of him and pointing his toes Arthur pulled of one sock, and then the other. Eames was leaning back against the headboard hard and he was breathing fast. Arthur could see the effect he was having on him, but the older man hadn't moved a muscle since he had lain down. Arthur stood again and slipped off his pants. Arthur never wore underwear, he found it too restrictive and considering his line of work very bothersome. He folded the slacks gently and bent to put them on the chair, knowing the shirt rode above his ass and gave Eames a great view. He unbuttoned the shirt without turning around and let it drop around his ankles. Then he turned and offered Eames his first look at his body.

Arthur watched as Eames took in everything he had to offer. The man still didn't move and Arthur had worried he had done something to upset him.

"Put the shirt on…please." Eames said breathily.

Arthur picked up the shirt from where he had put it on the desk and pulled it on. Since Eames was so much bigger than him the shirt hit him mid-thigh. He buttoned it and took a step towards the bed. Eames pulled back the covers and Arthur climbed into the bed next to him. Eames gently tucked the covers around him. Arthur gave him a long, smouldering glare. Eames swallowed hard.

"May I kiss you?" Eames asked very softly. Arthur nodded and tilted his chin towards him.

Eames kissed him hard on the mouth and Arthur felt one of his hands on his chest. The passion in the kiss surprised Arthur, who had never experienced anything quite like this before. His hands found their way into Eames' hair, tangling it around his fingers and Eames was gripping the back of his head, pulling him closer.

Eames broke the kiss gasping, pupils blown. Arthur could feel his lips tingling. Eames ran his down Arthur's cheek and pressed another quick kiss to Arthur's lips before he swung out of the bed and padded to his suitcase. He quickly shed his clothing and dressed himself in pyjama pants before returning to the bed. He smiled at Arthur and kissed him again, softly.

"Mr. Eames?" The other man looked at him sharply. "Eames." A smile. "Why am I here?"

"Because Arthur, I need company. May I hold you?"

Arthur nodded, a little confused as to what Eames wanted from him. He settled down on his side as Eames shut off the light and snuggled in behind him. Eames had the length of his body pressed against Arthur, but made no move to grope or molest him. He simply wrapped his arm around Arthur's waist and gave him a kiss on the back of the neck.

"Good night Arthur."

"Good night Mr. Eames."


	3. Scare

**Scare**

Arthur woke the next morning to someone pounding very loudly on the hotel room door.

Eames sat up very straight in the bed and swore. The pounding continued and now there were people shouting and swearing in a strange language through the door. Eames swung himself out of bed and crossed to Arthur's side. There was a gun in his hand and Arthur felt a shiver go up his spine.

Eames pressed the gun roughly into Arthur's hands. "I want you to take this and lock yourself into the bathroom. Don't open the door for anyone, not even me. Do you understand?"

"What? Why?"

Eames smiled lopsidedly at him. "Because I'm not expecting anyone Darling, now just do as I ask you."

He seized Arthur under the arm as the pounding grew worse and half dragged him towards the bathroom.

"Wait!" Arthur dug in his heels. "How will I know it's safe to come out?"

Eames looked at him for a moment. The door sounded as though someone were trying to break it down. "What's your favourite car Love?"

"What?"

"Just name one!" Eames cried exasperatedly.

"Plymouth." blurted Arthur, naming the first one to come to his head.

"That's the signal." Eames said, shoving Arthur unceremoniously into the marble bathroom. "Lock it!"

Arthur did as he was told, locking the door behind Eames and crouching in the bathtub clutching the gun. Arthur was ashamed with how frightened he was again. He tried to remember so many years ago when Marcus had taught him to use a gun.

The sounds from outside the bathroom were loud. Arthur wondered why no one had called the front desk or security yet. There was shouting in that strange language Arthur had heard and smashing and what sounded like blows being exchanged. Arthur recognised Eames' voice, but there were two other voices he didn't recognise. They seemed to be arguing about something. Suddenly, someone was banging and shaking the bathroom door. Eames' voice was close on the other side of the door, and one of the other men. There was the sound of more blows and then something heavy hit the door. It happened again and again and the door began to buckle in the middle. Arthur managed to get the gun cocked and pointed it at the door. He heard Eames' voice again briefly then a flurry of violent sounding blows and the door stopped shuttering. There was a cacophony of shouting and thumps and then a ringing silence.

Arthur stepped towards the door, gun by his side. He crouched in front of it and pressed his ear against the door, trying to hear what was going on on the other side. He heard something and pressed himself against the bathtub.

"Plymouth." Eames breathed through the door.

Arthur dropped the gun and ran to unlock the door. Eames was kneeling on the floor in front of the bathroom. Arthur dropped to his knees beside him.

Eames' left eye and cheek were bruised and there was blood leaking from his nose. He grinned at Arthur even as he gripped his ribs. Arthur helped him up and to the bed, where he pulled the other man's hands away to take a look at what he was hiding. The right side of Eames' rib cage was already purpling and several boot prints were already visible.

"What happened?" Arthur gasped, taking in the damage.

"I couldn't let them get you." Eames explained, gritting his teeth in pain as he leaned against the backboard. "Pretty boy like you? They would have torn you apart."

Arthur felt something strange in his chest, a warmth. He had never felt anything like it, but then again no one had ever done something so selfless for him before.

"Can I do anything?" he asked, putting a hand on Eames' shoulder as he hissed in pain again.

"No, I'm alright. Someone called security; I told them we were being mugged. Actually if you can get my stuff together, they're going to be giving us another room."

Arthur nodded and hurried to do as he was asked. Several men came and went, asking questions and poking around. Arthur remained silent and by Eames' side, his head down and letting Eames do all the talking, something he had learned from Marcus. The police eventually came through but were more than happy to accept that an upstanding gentleman such as Eames was simply protecting his date, and that the gun was for self defense. They then moved both Arthur and Eames to a room down the hall while they cleaned everything up. Arthur didn't notice that his hands were shaking until Eames took hold of them.

"You're ok Love." He mumbled into his hair as he wrapped Arthur up in his arms. Arthur clung to him as gently as he could manage. He let Eames kiss him again and he realised what the warmth was. He was falling for Eames. That just wouldn't do. He pushed Eames away from himself.

"You should go have those ribs looked at." he said firmly, looking away from the Brit.

"Ok, I'll go see the nurse. Order me a martini for when I get back will you Darling, and something for you to eat." Arthur nodded and watched him out the door.

* * *

><p>Eames was quick to come back, and said the nurse had told him only the skin above his ribs was bruised. Good news in that there was no dangerous or lasting damage but bad news in that there was nothing she could do for him other then give him some pain killers and send him on his way.<p>

Arthur had ordered him his martini and put it on the table across from his steak and new potatoes. Eames lowered himself into the chair and sipped his martini as he watched Arthur eat from over the rim of the glass.

"It seems forever since I've seen a man eat." Arthur smiled around his fork. He ate two more bites—he had to watch his figure—and then offered the plate to Eames.

"Please, I couldn't eat another bite." Eames looked at him with brief suspicion, but when Arthur nodded encouragingly he took the plate.

"Why were those men trying to get at you so badly?" Arthur asked. He knew he shouldn't be curious, but he couldn't help it.

"They don't like how well I'm doing my job. They thought they'd hurt me…or you…to tech me a lesson." Eames chewed a mouthful of potato and that seemed to be the end of the conversation.

Arthur, who was still wearing the shirt he had borrowed from Eames to sleep in, ran his bare foot up the inside of Eames leg, and then rested his foot softly over the man's groin. Eames choked slightly on the potato in his mouth, coughed and then reached down to move Arthur's foot, putting it back down onto the floor.

"Don't you want me?" Arthur asked, pulling the shirt to one side to reveal a swath of chest and pouting in a way that he knew made grown men melt.

"Yes, I do." Eames said thickly. "But we've got two weeks. Why rush things?"

Arthur pouted and Eames laughed. "Aren't you guys supposed to like easy jobs?"

"Yeah, but this is boring." Eames laughed even harder. He pushed his chair away from the table.

"Come here Darling."

Arthur rose from the chair, the now slightly open shirt sliding down to reveal his shoulder and one neatly toned pec. He crossed to the other side of the table and stood in front of the seated Eames. Eames tilted his head to look up at Arthur. Arthur hiked the shirt up over his knees and lowered himself into Eames' lap, facing him. Eames' hands found Arthur's ass, squeezing him through the shirt. Arthur kissed him deeply, bracing both hands against Eames' face. Eames moaned in pleasure as Arthur slipped his tongue into his mouth. He rubbed himself gently against Arthur's rump, making Arthur arch into him. Eames cupped the back of Arthur's head and manoeuvred him so his face was pressed against his neck. Arthur felt him smelling the back of his neck, where hair met skin, and then kissing him there. Eames found the top knob of Arthur's spine and sucked on it gently. Arthur moaned and kissed Eames' neck, nuzzling and nibbling.

"Will you take a bath for me?" he asked Arthur quietly, nuzzling his ear. Arthur nodded against his neck.

Eames stood, sweeping Arthur into his arms. He carried him into the bathroom, kissing him deeply the whole way. Eames put Arthur gently on the toilet and opened the taps on the bathtub. Arthur slipped off the toilet lid and knelt behind Eames, massaging his shoulders and kissing the back of his neck. Eames turned around and kissed Arthur some more before standing, taking Arthur with him.

While he kissed the younger man in front of him he fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. He managed to get it open and off and stood back to admire the body in front of him. The bathtub was full now and he shut the taps off and helped Arthur in. Arthur sunk into the hot water and a little moan of appreciation escaped him. Eames chuckled softly and scooped water over Arthur's chest. Arthur luxuriated in the hot water and the attentions of Eames.

_Your client. _He reminded himself very firmly.

Arthur let Eames wash his hair for him. Arthur hated how his hair got when it was wet, curly and all over the place. He had to slick it back in order to keep it under control. And when a client wanted it down it was all he could do not to rip it out. Eames didn't seem to mind too much, he was tangling his fingers in it and smelling it deeply. It was starting to tickle and Arthur giggled.

"Can I watch you wash?"

Arthur stood, shivering slightly in the cool air of the bathroom after the warmth of the bath. He grabbed the rose-scented bar off the soap ledge and lathered himself up carefully, making sure not to miss a single nook or cranny. He dipped back into the tub to rinse then stood again. Making sure to keep eye contact with Eames the whole time he put some body milk on a loofah and applied it to his extremities. Eames, sitting on the floor in front of the toilet, watched in rapt attention as Arthur exfoliated himself. Once again he rinsed and pulled the plug to drain the tub. Eames stood and grabbed a towel, holding it open for Arthur.

Arthur stepped out of the tub and into the towel. Eames wrapped it around him and rubbed briskly, getting most of the moisture off. He then draped the towel around Arthur's shoulders like a cape and retrieved another towel. This one he used to dry Arthur's hair, rubbing gently so as not to pull it.

"Stay here Darling, I'll get you a new shirt."

Arthur waited in the steam filled bathroom for Eames, who came back with a light blue pull over sweater. Arthur raised his eyebrow.

"No buttons." said Eames, pulling the sweater over Arthur's head.

They left the towels on the floor for the morning and climbed into the bed together. Eames turned off the light and snuggled into Arthur's back again.

"So that's two make out sessions, one dinner, one bath, one strip tease and I think I felt a few gropes during that towel down so I'll billing you for that too."

A chuckle in the dark.

"Keeping track?"

"Of course, you're lucky I'm not asking for anything for this." He felt Eames smile against his neck. "Goodnight Eames."

"Good night Darling."


	4. Morning Talks

**Morning Talks**

Arthur woke a little easier the next morning, gradually becoming aware of the sensation of someone's fingers stroking his flanks. He moaned quietly and stretched, causing the fingers to stop. He rolled over onto his back and peered at Eames through sleep-blurry eyes. Eames looked awake and happy. He was smiling warmly down at Arthur. Arthur smiled back, he felt, a little drunkenly. Eames lowered his head and sniffed deeply of the junction of Arthur's shoulder and neck. He hummed in satisfaction and began to nibble gently. Arthur laughed and threaded his fingers into Eames' hair, looking down at him through his eyelashes.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked, laughing as Eames snuffled his way up his neck and into his hair.

"I love the warm sleep smell of a person when they first wake up." Arthur laughed again.

"Marcus was right, you do have a weird fetish." He felt Eames' laugh rumble against his rib cage. He rested his chin on Arthur's chest and looked up at him.

"Marcus kept going on about how you were the smartest boy he had, how you were the most intelligent person he had ever talked to. How does someone as smart as you end up hooking?"

Arthur shrugged a little uncomfortably. What would he want to hear? Which of his many stories? Was he a saviour or was he secretly thinking Arthur had gotten what he deserved? Then Eames slid up the bed, settling himself in next to Arthur and looking straight at him with those horribly intense eyes. And then Arthur realized he was really curious, Eames just wanted to know about him. He rolled over on to his side, facing the window and feeling the sun warming him. Eames slipped his arm around Arthur's waist and kissed the back of his neck.

"My mom owed a lot of people a lot of money she couldn't pay. She knew Marcus through one of her dozens of boyfriends and he basically told her that he had a quick way she could settle all her debts."

Arthur felt Eames stiffen behind him. "She didn't. She couldn't. She was your mother!"

Arthur laughed a little bitterly. "That didn't stop her. She sold me to Marcus' brothel without even blinking. Told me I was going to a better place for me, with food and clean clothes. I had heard about Marcus from some of the boys I hung out with though, what he had talked to them about, and I knew what she had done with me. She did too and that's what the worst part is, is that she knew and she did it anyway and lied to me about it." Arthur felt a tear leak out from his squeezed shut eye and he swiped at it angrily. He didn't cry, and especially over what that stupid cow did.

He felt a pressure on his side and realized Eames was turning him over. Arthur turned his face away, not wanting to be self-pitying in front of a client but Eames gently guided his face back. Eames kissed both of his closed eyes and ran his tongue up Arthur's cheek, gathering up the tear. Eames eased his warm weight onto Arthur's body and kissed him gently. Arthur framed Eames' face with his hands, returning the kiss and letting Eames hold him.

It wasn't like anything Arthur had had with any other client. Usually there were teeth and tongue and an incessant hardness pressing at him, begging for attention. This was nothing like that. Eames split his lips to share a breath and the kisses were soft and gentle. He wasn't rubbing anything on him; he was just resting over top of him. And then Arthur realized that the weight on top of him was extremely comforting, making him feel safe. Eames stopped kissing him and just lay there for a few minutes, his face pressed into Arthur's neck. Arthur clutched him around the shoulders and let his warmth press him down into the bed. He sniffled unattractively for a second, and then cleared his throat. Eames rolled off of him and lay on his side next to him, watching him intently. Arthur looked right back at him.

"What do you do? Why were those men after you?" Eames scrubbed his face with the hand he wasn't leaning on and groaned slightly.

"You're very curious for an escort you know." Arthur opened his mouth to retort, and then realized that Eames was teasing him. He was grinning widely, his eyes laughing.

"I work…sort of as a mercenary, but not really. I forge, I steal and I extract information from…dreams."

Arthur looked at him incredulously. "You could have just said you didn't want to tell me."

Eames buried his grin in Arthur's neck. "Really, that's what I do. That's why those men were after me, I got the information we were sent to get and they weren't happy."

"We?"

"I work with a team," explained Eames, reaching up to play with a lock of Arthur's hair.

"You can't steal dreams by yourself?"

"Information Darling, I steal the information from the dreams." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Right."

Eames smiled and pecked Arthur on the cheek as he rolled out of the bed. Arthur watched from his nest of bedding as Eames dressed and smoothed his hair in the mirror. He noticed Arthur watching him and smiled at the reflection of the smaller man. He turned back, crawling predatorily up the bed towards Arthur, who promptly pulled the covers over his head. Eames pounced on the Arthur-shaped lump and proceeded to tickle it until Arthur emerged pink-faced and gasping for air. Eames grinned at him and leaned forward to capture his lips.

"One more question," Arthur managed to get in between kisses.

"Shoot." said Eames, moving to an ear lobe.

"Why me?"

Eames nibbled on his ear for a little bit, then moved on to his throat. "You're damn sexy, that's why. If you're going to be paying for it, they might as well look good on your arm."

"That's what I mean," gasped Arthur, threading his fingers into Eames sandy hair as he began to suck on his collarbone. "Why pay for it at all?"

"I get lonely, I like company."

"But you could have just met someone instead of forking over what I can only begin to guess was a large sum of money for something you're not even taking full advantage of."

Eames stopped his ministrations and Arthur feared he had crossed a line. Eames just looked at him though, a little sadly.

"Because Darling, sometimes paying for love is a lot easier than being in it." He kissed Arthur and slipped off the bed again. "I'm going to fetch us breakfast. Any requests?"

Arthur shook his head mutely and watched from the bed as Eames tossed a smile to him over his shoulder and slipped out the door. _So this is about a guy. _He thought to himself quietly. _That's why I'm here._

That thought depressed Arthur more than it should.


	5. Shopping

**Shopping**

Following the awkwardness of their morning conversation, Arthur attempted not to put Eames on the spot anymore and avoided any questions that might do so. Their days fell into a bit of a routine, with Eames going to work for the first part of the day, leaving Arthur to do what he pleased and returning in the late afternoon. Arthur had requested a site-seeing map, which Eames was happy to supply. Arthur had been in the city for some years, but had never been to many of its main attractions and so he spent his free mornings admiring what the city had to offer.

In the afternoon, when they had both returned to the hotel room from their excursions they might settle in and watch movies until the evening or go for a drink in the bar. Eames liked to read to him as well, Arthur curled up next to him on the bed, his head resting on Eames' chest. Arthur had a feeling that this was something Eames used to do with who ever Arthur was replacing. Sometimes they would just watch the news, or have a nap together.

In the evening they would sit and eat dinner together, either in the room or –if Eames felt like showing him off—in the restaurant downstairs. Then they might watch another movie, or go out to a club. Arthur was careful never to stray from Eames during their trips, and took great leaps to make sure Eames knew how much he appreciated the protective presence he provided Arthur (Arthur was pretty sure he had seen less provocative dancing from Tawny on the pole). When they got back to the hotel they often stayed up in to the wee hours of the morning talking. Arthur was surprised at the variety of topics Eames had an opinion on, and an educated one at that. Then Eames would watch him dress for bed, or else they would go into the bathroom and Eames would watch him bathe. Arthur had yet to see Eames bathe, though he was always clean so he knew he was. It was just curious. They were also yet to have sex, or indeed indulge in anything farther then second base. Eames was right, Arthur should be grateful for such an easy job it just struck him as odd that he would pay so much money for an escort he had no interest in bedding.

Well, perhaps no interest was a strong term to use since Arthur had seen the effect he had on Eames.

Arthur hadn't realized how much stuff you could get done in two weeks, until Eames told him their time together was almost up.

"What?" asked Arthur, very surprised, a spoonful of oatmeal halfway to his mouth. Eames looked back from where he was straightening his tie in the mirror.

"We've only got three days left together Love."

"Oh," said Arthur, digging a hole in his oatmeal and watching it fill with milk.

"We're going to need to go shopping for you. I've just found out I'm expected to attend a dinner tomorrow and you're going to be my plus one. Can you be ready to go out when I get back from work?"

Arthur nodded, once again digging into his oatmeal. Eames smiled and crossed to the bed. Bracing himself on the edge he leaned in to give Arthur a quick kiss, his body weight on one side of the bed causing Arthur to tip into his chest. Arthur giggled and kissed him back.

"See you later!" Eames called as he shut the door.

"Bye." answered Arthur quietly.

* * *

><p>Arthur didn't want to go out that day for fear of missing Eames in the afternoon, so he lounged about the hotel room the entire morning. He briefly entertained the idea of having an unobserved bath, but still didn't want to do anything that would upset Eames. So he watched the news and when that deteriorated into talk shows and soap operas he started on the newspaper Eames had left with their breakfast dishes. As he started in to the Arts section, he noticed Eames' clothes from the previous day piled messily in the corner. Arthur huffed angrily and threw the paper down on the table. He hated mess; it was probably his biggest pet peeve.<p>

As he picked up the rumpled clothes he got a puff of Eames' cologne. It was rich and spicy, and reminded Arthur somehow of the woods he used to roam in his childhood. He threw the majority of the clothes onto the armchair and lifted the obnoxiously coloured cotton shirt to his nose, inhaling deeply. A faint trace of Eames' own musk was also detectable and Arthur moaned softly against the fabric. He lay on the bed with the shirt still covering his face, feeling something stirring in his belly. It had been a while since Arthur had felt genuine arousal considering his job had pretty much desensitized him to all sensual materials.

He rubbed himself gently over the sweater he was still wearing, quieting his moans by pressing the shirt harder against his face. He thought of Eames' hand touching him, his eyes boring into Arthur's soul, the way he felt they were every time Eames looked at him. The dream Eames wanted to see more of him, and Arthur hopped off the bed momentarily to pull the sweater off over his head and slid back into the nest of covers. He smelled deeply of the shirt again and imagined Eames lying next to him now, watching him touch himself. He jerked himself desperately, pinching his own nipple mercilessly and (much to his embarrassment) kissing Eames' shirt. He finished much too quick considering his profession, but he chalked that up to lack of exposure. He stared at the mess he had made on his stomach and was instantly ashamed of himself. He was getting much too worked up over a client who wouldn't even sleep with him, much less remember his name after the next few days.

He cleaned himself up quickly, returning the shirt to its place on the armchair with the rest of Eames' laundry. Then he dressed himself in his suit, making sure every crease was in the right place, and sat down at the table with the paper once again to wait for Eames.

* * *

><p>"Black looks so nice on you, but I feel like you should at least have a little colour in your tie. What do you think Arthur? Arthur?"<p>

Eames looked around for his wayward companion but couldn't see him. He felt a momentary shiver of fear run up his spine. He strode quickly through the aisles, his hand automatically going under his jacket to find the butt of his gun. He could feel his heart pounding. _He's fine, you're overreacting. He's just looking around, you were taking too long. _He came around a corner and found Arthur standing at a display. He sucked in a breath and flipped his jacket back over his weapon. Arthur turned and smiled at him.

"You gave me quite a turn Darling. I thought someone had made off with you." He pulled Arthur into his arms and kissed him gently."

"I'm sorry; I thought you heard me say I was going to look around while you were picking things out."

Eames held Arthur to his chest for a moment, then when to look at the display to see what Arthur had been looking at. He held Arthur's hand tightly, lest he lose him again.

"Wow, they have everything in American department stores don't they?"

Arthur had been looking a display of magic tricks. There were all types of card tricks and weighted die and scarves.

"You like magic Love?" Arthur shrugged shyly.

"When I was little." This made Eames smile. He was just too cute. He leaned closer over the display.

"What's your favourite?" Arthur pointed to a small, bright red die. Eames flagged down the cashier posted at the counter and bought it for him. As the small die rolled in his palm Arthur smiled gently.

"Thank you."

"No problem Darling. Now, let's find you a suit."


	6. Dinner Party

**Dinner Party**

Arthur straightened his tie in the mirror and smoothed a crease from the arm of his jacket. Eames had bought him a new black tux for the party and Arthur had let him talk him into a pale pink tie. Eames himself was in a surprisingly tame outfit. He too had bought a tux in black, but his tie was a bit more ostentatious than Arthur's. He had chosen a bright red tie that Arthur had to admit was a little less out there then his other colour choices and suited him very well. Eames was jerking the tie nervously and his hands were shaking terribly as he tried to fix the knot. Arthur took his hands away gently and tied it for him.

"Why are you so nervous Eames?" Eames shrugged and brushed some lint off his suit. Arthur felt he had once again overstepped his boundaries and sat on the bed. Eames sighed and sat down next to him. He put an arm gently around Arthur's shoulders.

"I'm sorry Darling. It's not you I just…there's going to be a lot of people there that I don't really want to deal with." Arthur tugged on Eames' tie seductively and looked up at him through his lengthy eyelashes.

"We could just not go…"

Eames laughed warmly and pulled Arthur down to lay with him on the bed. He kissed Arthur softly for a minute. The only sound in the room was their breathing. Then he sighed softly and pressed his forehead to Arthur's.

"I would love nothing more than to spend the evening with you, but I need to go unfortunately."

He stood and helped Arthur stand. Arthur brushed the wrinkles from his suit and waited for Eames to grab his wallet. Eames smiled and held the door open for his companion. He and Arthur held hands in the elevator, all the way across the lobby and for the whole car ride.

* * *

><p>Eames turned the car up a wooded drive and Arthur caught his first look of the house. It rose in lighted glory over the garden and well-manicured lawn. It was bigger than most of the houses Arthur had seen and it seemed to be made completely of marble. There was a large crowd visible through the large bay windows in the front of the house and a long line of cars was still making its way up the drive.<p>

Arthur stared up at the house out the car window with wide eyes. The streams of people going through the front door were wearing a small fortune in jewels. Arthur figured they were owned and not borrowed and he fixed his tie nervously. Eames noticed and took his hand smiling.

"You look fine Darling." Arthur smiled as he looked sideways at Eames. Eames kissed his hand gently as they rolled up to the front door.

The valet opened the passenger door and held his hand out to Arthur. Arthur had never been so readily accepted at an event before. The staff was usually a little confused as to whether to treat him as a date or a friend. Maybe Eames had called ahead. Another valet crossed to Eames' side and opened the door for him. Eames stepped out and passed him a tip before crossing to Arthur, giving that valet a tip too. Then he offered his arm to Arthur who took it gladly and they walked up to the front door. Eames passed the attendant his invitation and lead Arthur through the grand front doors and into a high-ceilinged marble foyer. Arthur looked around again. Everything was gold detailing, rich fabrics and modern art. He would have killed to live in a place like this, instead of in his room at the brothel, waiting for old men to pay Marcus their money to paw all over him. He shuddered and Eames put a comforting arm around him.

"It's ok Honey. You know what you're doing." Arthur smiled up at him and tilted his chin. Eames took the invitation and covered Arthur's lips with his own. They broke apart when someone cleared their throat.

A butler stood before them. "The guests are gathering in the ballroom Master Eames." Eames nodded in thanks and lead Arthur down the hall to their left and into a room even grander then the foyer.

The ballroom too was pale marble with gold accents, but it included no fewer than six huge dangling crystal chandeliers. Rich, blood red fabric hung in large swathes over and beside each set of the eight French doors, tied with gold cord. There were vases scattered around the perimeter on low tables, both the vase and table costing-Arthur knew- more than most middle class families made in a year. There was a large crowd milling around, eating canapés and drinking champagne from wondering waiters with huge silver trays. Arthur's chest seized momentarily at the size of the crowd but Eames squeezed his hand reassuringly and passed him a champagne glass from a passing tray. They stepped down the three stairs leading down into the sunken ballroom and immersed themselves in the crowd. Several people greeted Eames happily and Arthur sipped his champagne while he held Eames' hand. A small group standing on the far side of the room called Eames over and he excused himself from Arthur.

"I'll be back in one minute, I promise." He pecked Arthur on the cheek and started through the sea of people.

Arthur stayed where he was, finishing the champagne in his hand. After he was done he stood with the flute in his hand, not quite sure what he was supposed to do with it. Eames still hadn't returned and Arthur looked around for him, beginning to get a little nervous. Several of the other guests, men and women, were looking back at him. He wasn't surprised, he knew he looked good. Eames himself had made sure that the suit hugged his body in all the best ways possible. They had been at the tailor for almost three hours. He still couldn't see Eames and his had slipped into his tux pocket to finger the die he had bought him. He felt silly for carrying it around, it was just a stupid plastic toy, but it was from Eames and it made him feel special.

"So you're his new…special friend hmm?" Arthur turned quickly to find a man standing behind him.

The man was tall and slim like Arthur, but had a different quality in his looks. While Arthur was dark and angular this young man was a little more feminine, with a thin pale face, full lips and slanted feline-like green eyes. The eyes were the most striking feature, bright jade green they seemed to glow in the man's face. He stood observing Arthur from a few feet away, one arm crossed across his stomach and the other hand dangling his champagne flute by his smirking mouth. He was dressed impeccably in a dove-grey silk lounge suit, no tie. He regarded Arthur with a look that just oozed contempt.

"Sorry Darling. I didn't mean to…take…so long…" Eames' arm stopped on Arthur's waist. Arthur could feel his racing heartbeat through his jacket. He looked up at Eames and saw him staring wide-eyed at the man in front of them. The man moved forward with effortless fluidity, offering Arthur his hand.

"David."

"Beloved." Eames mumbled, almost panicked, under his breath. The man fixed Eames with his luminescent stare.

"Still have that irritating little habit do you Eames?" Eames' hand tightened in Arthur's jacket over the small of his back. "What's your name? Or do hookers not have them anymore?"

Arthur stiffened.

"It's Arthur."

"He always did like men with ancient monarch names." The man's eyes danced with mischief. He wasn't looking at Arthur, he was still looking at Eames.

"I thought you weren't coming." Eames managed thickly. The man shrugged dismissively.

"Harris didn't want to come by himself. Speak of the devil."

A tall and well-built older man saddled up to their little group. He had on a well pressed spring Armani and a bow tie. His arm slid possessively around David's waist and he kissed him on the cheek. David continued to stare down Eames, who gave a strained smile to the newest arrival. The man, Harris, offered his hand to Eames.

"Eames, it's so good to see you again." Eames nodded mutely and David's eyes sparkled with silent laughter.

Arthur felt warm with rage, not just at what this man was doing to Eames, but the fact that Eames was telling people about what he did for work. He had never hidden it, and it had never been a problem for it before, but this time it had him riled up. He opened his mouth to put the snarky weasel in his place, but was saved embarrassing himself and his client by the dinner bell.

* * *

><p>Arthur stormed into the hotel room, all but ripping the tie from his lapels. Eames followed behind him in silence, shutting the door quietly. Dinner had been awkward, Arthur silent with rage and Eames trying to ignore the fact that his ex-lover's foot kept finding its way into his crotch. The oblivious Harris chattered happily away with Arthur who just nodded and grunted when necessary. The car ride back to the hotel had been even worse, since Arthur and Eames were alone together and Arthur had seethed the whole way.<p>

"So that's him then?" demanded Arthur. "The "other" man?" Eames nodded miserably.

"I'm sorry Darling, I really didn't know he was going to be there."

"I don't even care! That's your business! But you've been telling people about me!"

Eames smiled a little helplessly and spread his arms to Arthur in a gesture of surrender.

"I'm sorry Arthur, I didn't realize your being a hooker was a secret."

Arthur felt his face go red. "Escort, we prefer escort!" He felt silly, he had to admit but he just couldn't stop himself.

"Oh, sorry," Eames said, a little too sarcastically. He was still worked up from seeing David again. "You're right, that makes your job sound soooo much more legitimate."

Arthur slapped him across the face, the sound ringing in the small space, then brushed past him and slammed the door behind him.


	7. Rescued

**Rescued **

Arthur shivered. The temperature had dropped since he and Eames had left in the evening and he hadn't grabbed his jacket. He wanted to go back and apologise, make things better. Eames was going to kill him, or Marcus was going to find him and do it for upsetting a client. Arthur wrapped his arms around himself and walked faster. He didn't even know where he was going, he just wanted to get as far away as possible as fast as possible. Maybe he could go back in a few hours when Eames had time to calm down, or even just go back to the brothel—if he could find it—and just forget the whole thing. Marcus would probably make him work off this fiasco too, since Eames was probably going to demand his money back.

He couldn't understand it. He had never struck anyone out of anger. He depended on his words not his fists, owing in part to the fact that most of the people he came in contact with were larger than him. Also, barring the man who had tried to kill him, he had never struck a client. It wasn't in his job description, he was supposed to go along with anything the client wanted. He didn't even want to think about what his punishment was going to be. He also didn't understand why he had gotten so worked up over Eames telling people what he was. Eames was right, it wasn't a secret. And yet, knowing that Eames was telling people he was a hooker had upset him greatly.

_He made you feel special. _Arthur thought to himself. _He made you feel different. He made you feel like he was different._

Arthur looked around and cursed at himself. He had no idea where he was and to top it all off he had wondered into a dead-end alley. He thought once again that he should probably go and try to make things right with Eames. Now was probably as good a time as any. If he could make it better then maybe Eames wouldn't have to call Marcus, and it wouldn't get as bad as it could. He made his mind up and turned to try to come back the way he came.

His way was blocked by four bulky men.

"Aww look, we scared the poor thing." Arthur backed slowly away from the men, not realizing he was cornering himself further.

"It's ok Sweet Thing, we'll take care of you." The men started into the alley towards Arthur, fanning out to surround him. "You're not alone anymore."

Arthur felt the brick of the back wall against his back and swallowed hard. The man nearest to him lunged and Arthur took a swing. Another man laughed and grabbed Arthur from behind while he was off balance. Arthur struggled hard but there were three of them on him and they shoved him onto the ground. They got his suit jacket off before he bit someone on the hand. He was paid back for that with a backhand across the mouth. He looked up dazed, tasting blood. Two of them held his legs, one his arms and one climbed onto him. He grabbed Arthur's face roughly with one hand while he tore his shirt open, some of the buttons hitting Arthur in the face. He kissed Arthur roughly, and he jerked his head away. The man hit him again and pressed his lips back against Arthur's. Tears were leaking steadily from Arthur's eyes. The man growled appreciatively as he ran a lecherous hand down Arthur's body.

"That's right Honey. You treat me good and I'll do the same for you."

The man palmed Arthur roughly and Arthur whimpered. His eyes slid shut and he attempted to go to his happy place, as he did his first few tricks. He heard a shout and the man above him jerked. He crumpled onto Arthur and he felt something trickle down his neck. He opened his eyes and screamed. Most of the man's face was gone, just not there anymore. Someone was pulling the man's corpse off him and grabbing at him. Arthur screamed again and lashed out with his nails. The man grabbed his hand and kissed it gently.

It was Eames.

"It's ok Darling, you're safe now."

Arthur was shaking so hard that he couldn't stand. Eames held him up against him and put his jacket around his shoulders. Arthur looked around. Eames had shot all four of them in the head, multiple times. The one who had been on top of Arthur had gotten it the worst. Arthur looked up at Eames in something akin to awe.

"You came for me?"

"Of course I did Love." Eames hugged him into his side and kissed the top of his head.

When they got to the car Eames strapped Arthur into the passenger side and told him to lock the door until he got back. Arthur did as he was told, straining his neck to watch Eames until he turned out of sight into the alley. Arthur sat back in his seat breathing hard. He found some napkins in the ashtray and swiped roughly at the smudges on his face. He jumped at a sound next to his ear, but turned to find Eames knocking on the window. He gestured to the trunk and Arthur popped it for him. He heaved whatever he had been hiding from Arthur into it and came around to the driver's side. Arthur waited until his hand was on the handle, and then unlocked the doors.

There was blood on his hand, but Eames held it anyway.

* * *

><p>At the hotel, Eames pulled the car around to the back.<p>

"Hold on one minute ok? I'll come back for you."

Arthur watched as Eames got out and went around to the back of the car. The general manager came down and Eames had a brief but intense conversation with him. Eames saw Arthur watching him in the rear view mirror and motioned for him to open the trunk again. Arthur did, but it blocked his view and he missed what was happening next. When Eames closed the trunk he was alone. He came around to Arthur's side and helped him out while a valet pulled his car away.

He held Arthur tightly as they rode the elevator, and Arthur didn't notice that he was crying until he caught site of himself in the mirrored wall of the elevator.

"God, I look a mess." Arthur swiped at his eyes, his hand coming back smeared with blood as well as tears.

"You look beautiful, really." Eames hugged him to him again as they walked to the room.

He let Arthur in to the room ahead of him and shut it. He let Arthur watch him lock and deadbolt the door, and flip over the safety bar. Then he went to Arthur and gently took his hands.

"I need to take your clothes off now Honey, is that ok with you?"

Arthur nodded slowly and Eames kissed him gently. He took off the suit jacket he had put on the younger man's shoulders and through it onto the bed. He then gently took off the tattered remains of the ravaged shirt. This he threw in the corner of the room before shifting in front of Arthur so that he couldn't look at it. He then put his hands gently on the other man's belt. Arthur looked up at him and sucked in his breath but didn't stop him. Eames undid the belt slowly, unzipped his fly and let the pants fall. Arthur took his offered hand and stepped out of the pants. He let Eames pick him up and carry him into the bathroom. Eames ran him a bath and disappeared back into the room proper. He put Arthur's clothes in a bag and hung them on the outside of door as he had arranged with the manager of the hotel. When he came back into the bathroom he found Arthur shivering beside the tub.

"Darling?"

"I want you…to come in with me." Arthur said shyly, ducking his head.

Eames smiled warmly at him and began to shuck his clothes. Arthur climbed into the steaming tub and tucked his knees up under his chin. He watched Eames get undressed and slide into the tub. He really noticed for the first time all of Eames' tattoos. He reached out a tentative finger to trace the ink across his chest. Eames' green eyes followed the finger closely. Then Arthur uncurled himself and rested his cheek against Eames' chest. Eames gently scrubbed all the dirt and blood off of Arthur and Arthur tried not to look. Then he drained the tub and filled it again, holding Arthur in his arms in the warmth. Arthur looked up at Eames, who smiled down at him.

"Thanks for saving me"

"Don't mention it Darling."

Arthur pulled himself up slightly to Eames' face, his hands braced on Eames' shoulders. He kissed him deeply and tried to convey his thanks through that. Eames returned the kiss with equal fever and lifted the smaller man out of the bath. They dripped their way across the floor and Eames laid Arthur gently on the bed. He climbed on top of him and Arthur welcomed it. Eames kissed Arthur everywhere, running his tongue up and down Arthur's flanks, making him giggle. Arthur pulled one of Eames' fingers into his mouth, sucking on it erotically. Eames moaned loudly against the soft skin of Arthur's thighs and returned the favour by sucking softly on the tip of Arthur's cock. Arthur moaned, releasing the finger and threading his fingers into Eames' sandy hair. Eames sucked hard on Arthur's cock, making the man underneath him arch up off the bed. Eames held him down gently and kissed him along his pelvic bone.

"Please, please Eames" Arthur babbled. "Need you…please, please…"

Eames slid up his body and kissed him deeply, his tongue tangling languidly with Arthur's. Arthur felt Eames pressing into his stomach and scooted up the bed to accommodate the larger man. Eames fumbled in the drawer beside Arthur and pulled out the lube and condoms he found there. He coated two fingers in the slick substance and pressed him mouth to Arthur's again, while pressing the first finger into his soon to be lover. Arthur groaned softly at the intrusion, but lifted his hips off the bed to give Eames more leverage. He buried a hand in Eames hair and moaned louder then he would ever admit as Eames kissed his neck while simultaneously adding a finger and finding his prostate.

Arthur panted heavily. It had been a while since Arthur had had someone who cared about his pleasure, and he had never had any experience with anyone he would call a lover before this. Now Eames was fumbling with the condom, his hand shaking. Arthur smiled gently and took the package from him. He tore it open and slowly slicked it down the other man's swollen cock. Eames hissed at the contact and stroked the inside of Arthur's thigh gently. Arthur shifted on the bed again, wrapping his legs around Eames' waist and guiding his lover into him for the first time.

Both men gasped at the sensation. Eames pushed steadily into the younger man beneath him and Arthur raised his hips again, letting Eames go deeper. As soon as Eames was in him completely he stopped for a minute to give Arthur a minute to adjust. His forehead rested on Arthur's and their faces were so close they were breathing each other's breath. When Eames moved they both gasped again. Eames buried his face in Arthur's neck and began a steady rhythm in and out of his smaller lover. Arthur was whimpering with need and clawing at Eames' back. He heard something and realized it was the older man.

"He doesn't mean anything. You're so much better. So gorgeous. You don't….even know how beautiful you are. Perfect, you're fucking perfect Arthur. God Arthur. Can't…fucking tell you….he's fucking hideous next to you. Forget David, I have you. I don't need anything else."

Arthur felt the tears running down his face as he listened to Eames keep babbling. Eames looked up and stopped mid-thrust, brushing a tear off of Arthur's cheek.

"Darling?" Eames' forehead wrinkled in concern.

Arthur just shook his head, not able to speak. He framed the other man's face gently with his hand then kissed him deeply. He skilfully switched their positions so that he was straddling Eames. Eames looked up at him, his eyes unfocused.

"Darling?" Eames asked again.

"Shh, let me take care of you."

Arthur raised himself up, using Eames' hand to lever himself, and then gently lowered himself back down. He rode Eames hard, making the man gasp underneath him. Soon Eames had both hands on Arthur's ass, thrusting up to meet Arthur. Eames began thrusting erratically into the willing body above him.

"I'm coming Arthur, Arthur please."

Arthur ground himself into Eames' lap and Eames surprised him by rearing up and sinking his teeth into Arthur's shoulder. Arthur cried out and—much to his surprise—came, spilling himself over both of their stomachs. Eames pinned him to his chest with one arm around Arthur's back and thrust himself hard into the other man a few more times before he stiffened and groaned into Arthur's neck. Then he pulled them both back down onto the rumpled, slightly damp bed.

He pulled gently out of Arthur and tied and tossed the condom. He then, much to Arthur's chagrin, used the jacket still on the bed to wipe the come off of them before throwing it onto the floor. Arthur wrinkled his nose in disgust, causing Eames to laugh. Then he traced his bite with a gentle finger.

"I'm sorry Darling. Did I hurt you?" Arthur shook his head. "Good, I'm glad. Did you have fun?"

Arthur grinned and rested his head on Eames' chest. He ran a finger gently through the sweat there and sighed happily.

Arthur fell asleep with his head on Eames' chest and Eames stroking his hair.


	8. Morning After

**Morning After**

Arthur woke when something cold was pressed against the side of his mouth. He jumped slightly, but relaxed when he opened his eyes and saw Eames. Eames smiled down at him as he adjusted the ice he had pressed against Arthur's face.

"Sorry I woke you Darling, I wanted to get some of this swelling down."

Arthur nodded as best he could with Eames pressing the ice against his face. He shivered slightly and Eames pulled the blankets farther up his chest. Arthur peered down. He was naked. _Why was he naked? _He blushed prettily as he remembered. Eames smiled at him again and moved the ice away from his mouth to give him a quick kiss. Eames slid out of the bed.

"I'm going to go get you breakfast ok Love? Hold tight till I get back. And keep that ice on!"

Arthur had a one of Eames' shirts on when he came back and was sitting up in the bed, the baggie of ice pressed against his swollen face. Nothing was broken at least, but Arthur still felt a little like crap. Eames put a breakfast burrito on the blankets in front of him and Arthur raised his eyebrow.

"Sorry, it was the closest thing to the bank and I didn't want to be gone any longer then I needed to be. The room's all settled and everything so all we have to do is check out. And if you want anything else to eat we can head on down to the restaurant."

Arthur nodded slowly and unwrapped his burrito. Today was their last day together. He watched from the bed as Eames puttered around, getting everything neatened up and packing up his things. The more he ate the sicker he felt. Finally he just stopped trying and put the rest of the burrito on the night stand. Eames noticed and came over to hold Arthur's hand.

"What's wrong Love?"

"Nothing, I just feel sick."

Eames kissed Arthur's neck gently and smelt the place where his hair met his neck. Arthur turned his face towards Eames and looked into his eyes. Eames began to breathe heavier and pressed his mouth to Arthur's. Arthur clutched the back of Eames' head and pushed his tongue into his mouth. Eames moaned softly into Arthur's mouth and rubbed a hand gently up and down the other man's torso. He broke the kiss, humming with pleasure and stared into Arthur's eyes again.

"I have something for you."

Eames slid off the bed and crossed to his jacket. Arthur's heart sank. _Last night didn't mean anything to him. It was just business like the rest of it._ Eames pressed a wad of cash into Arthur's hand and watched nervously as the other man counted it.

"Isn't this a little light?" Arthur asked coolly.

"What do you mean?" Eames asked, fiddling with the tails of his shirt.

"You don't remember last night?" Arthur raised another eyebrow at Eames. Eames rose from the chair and leaned against the mirror opposite the bed.

"I'm not paying for that."

"Pardon me?"

"I didn't sleep with a hooker, so I'm not paying for having sex with you."

"What?" Arthur rose from the bed. "What are you talking about?"

Eames paced nervously. "Well, you know how I was late yesterday. Well…I went and…bought you from Marcus."

He flopped defeated into the chair and looked up at Arthur, who stood by the bed staring at him. Then he dashed across the room to his suit jacket where it hung on the back of the desk chair. He fumbled in the inside pocket until he found the phone Marcus had given him before he left the brothel. He shut himself in the bathroom with the phone, away from Eames. Marcus' number was the only one in the phone, so it was easy to get connected. The man picked up on the second ring.

"Hey there hot stuff, enjoying your new life?"

"He was telling the truth?" Arthur asked in wonder, still not quite believing what he was hearing.

"He hurting you babe?" Arthur could hear the threat in Marcus' voice.

"No, no, I just…I didn't believe him…"

"Yeah, he paid me a good sum to let you go. Sorry I couldn't tell you in person, but he seemed in a hurry. Come get your stuff when you're ready or I can have it sent to you if you like?"

"I…I don't know yet. Can I let you know?"

"No problem Honey. Keep this phone on you and call me whenever you need me ok?"

Arthur agreed to call him if he needed anything and they said their formal good byes. He knew Marcus had already replaced him, but was glad he had put the effort into making him feel missed. He rested his back against the bathroom door for a minute. Eames had bought him. He yanked the door open and Eames leapt out of the chair he was in.

"Why did you do it?" Arthur demanded.

"Because I love you Darling."

Arthur just blinked at him. Of all the answers he was expecting that was not one of them.

"You don't belong to me, so don't even think that. You're free to do whatever you want now. But, if you'd like to come home with me then I know we could use someone as smart as you on our team. We need a sharp point man."

"How much was it?" Eames grimaced.

"I'd rather not say…"

Arthur tackled Eames onto the bed and once again showed his thanks.

* * *

><p>Arthur sat in the airport waiting for Eames, who was late. His stuff had already been shipped first class by Marcus and it would be waiting for him when he and Eames arrived in Mombasa. He saw his lover and stood, waving happily at him. Eames grinned seeing him and strode towards him. He kissed Arthur deeply and passed him his ticket.<p>

They held hands as they passed through the gate and boarded the plane.

_I've never been to Africa before. _Arthur thought as he watched America wiz past underneath them. He looked over at Eames in the seat next to him who smiled warmly. He smiled back and settled into his seat, turning to stare out the window.

_This should be quite fun._


End file.
